Catch Me If You Can
by Ms. Videl Son
Summary: Series of OneShots. Sometimes, Saiyaman was pretty sure he wanted to be caught. Gohan was always on the fence about it. SMVi, GhVi.
1. Ruse

**Title: **Catch Me If You Can  
**Rating:** M ( R ) – For the smexyness. And maybe a little violence.  
**Disclaimer:** You'll have to catch me first! Neener-neener-neeeeeeener! XP  
**Spoilers: **Gohan is Saiyaman. There, I've ruined it for you.

**Summary: **Series of OneShots. Sometimes, Saiyaman was pretty sure he wanted to be caught. Gohan was always on the fence about it. SMVi, GhVi.

For the record, "SM" stands for "Saiyaman." And, yeah, I know that Gohan _is_ Saiyaman, but...just keep reading. It'll make sense.

* * *

**Ruse**

It was a long, tense moment before Saiyaman responded. It felt like a trap (and it probably was) and he didn't want to fall for it. He was stronger than that, smarter than that, and he wouldn't give in. He was a hero, gosh darnit!

And then he felt Videl's tongue lap at the opening between his lips and the hero folded. His jaw slackened, distended and allowed her sweet forces to invade his territory, sweeping and digging as deep into the cavern of his mouth as far as her tongue would go. He tilted his head and moaned as she tickled the inside of his cheek with a playful flick.

Oh, he was definitely trapped now. Saiyaman's gloved fingers sought out his adversary and pulled her closer, trailing up the side of her throat and into the thick nest of dark hair at the base of her skull. They tangled deep and loosened the golden clasp that tamed her wild tresses. It snapped open and fell to the ground with a sharp "tink."

It was Videl's turn to moan in approval. He swallowed up the sound, lapping it up with the tongue that had darted out to meet hers in a fight for dominance, and felt it sink deep into his chest. It pulsed against his ribs as if it was struggling to break free. But it was his now.

Videl's hands were moving up his torso, tugging at his tunic, scraping against the spandex body suit that separated his skin from hers, and invading deeper into his defenses. They were rising rapidly, her fingers pausing only briefly on each bulging muscle during the ascent, and Saiyaman could feel his nerve endings light with intense fire every time she touched one. Her hands left tingles in their wake.

Saiyaman broke the kiss for one hungry instant, inhaled only the oxygen that he needed, and lowered his head to take another one. His spare hand, the one not busy directing the angle of Videl's head by her dark tresses, moved down to rest at the base of her spine. He _longed_ to move lower, but didn't want to risk ruining the good thing he already had going. Videl wasn't that kind of girl.

When his cunning adversary dug her teeth into his lower lip he reconsidered what kind of girl she was. She was...she was...

Diabolical.

Maybe he liked that.

With a desperation for something that Saiyaman didn't really understand, he pushed Videl backwards until she was pressed against the most convenient surface – her idling police cruiser, the red and blue lights swirling in dizzy rotations – and leaned down to take full possession. He half-expected her to struggle, to bite him again, maybe, but she allowed his presumption with relative ease. The only comment she made about the new position was a surprised squeal deep in her throat.

It was no longer one kiss, or even two, but a flurry of desperation. Their lips would touch for two, maybe three seconds before Saiyaman would pull them out of her reach and then dive in for another. He repeated his pattern too many times to count.

Videl struggled to keep up with the frantic pace of his possession, but quickly fell behind. She responded to maybe half of his kisses and merely accepted the rest. Her hands were cupping at his cheeks, maybe trying to hold him still long enough to wrench the control away for herself, and her knee was rising to rest against his hip. Saiyaman reached out and eased it up higher, his gloved fingertips digging into the plush flesh of her thigh.

It wasn't until he felt the chin strap on his helmet flap against his collarbone that Saiyaman knew he'd been had.

Suddenly remembering who he was – The Great Saiyaman, defender of love, justice and innocence – and why this was wrong – Detective Satan Videl, arch nemesis and tricky little sneak – he jerked backwards and out of her deceptive embrace.

Videl, caught by surprise when he'd sprung her trap, was knocked off-kilter by his escape. She stopped herself from sliding all the way down to the asphalt by bracing her palms against the slick frame of her cruiser, chest heaving as she gulped for breath.

Saiyaman fingered the loose strap dangling from his face, numb and betrayed, as he accused, "Y-You tried to unmask me."

Videl was still panting as she said, "Can't...blame a girl...for trying." Her swollen lips were smirking at him.

Beneath his visor, Saiyaman glared at her. She was sneaky. She was devious. She was hell-bent on putting him in jail. She scoffed at his poses and his catch phrases and his costume. She was kind of mean.

The worst part was, he still wanted her.

Videl wiggled until she was standing fully upright and then straightened her rumpled clothes. The top three buttons on her blouse were undone so that he could see the undershirt – an evil burgundy color – which he was pretty sure had been hidden before. The hem of her top was pulled free of her pants on one side, but she pretended not to notice.

"Aww, don't be mad," she said. Her blue eyes glimmered at him in the shifting light like the center of a flame. "At least I didn't try to punch you this time."

Saiyaman's jaw was clenched tight as he refastened the clasp that kept his helmet in place. His cape swirled in a dramatic arc as he turned his back on her and prepared to take flight.

Just before his feet left the ground, he inclined his head toward her in a sharp nod. "Detective," he dismissed, propelling himself upward and away with a blast of chi.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I'm trying an experiment. Each chapter is going to be a stand-alone OneShot, but they'll all be connected by the same setting and characters. No high school, no Buu and GhVi are approximately twenty-five-years-old. More details will be forthcoming in future installments. These stories are vaguely related to a premise that I've been working on for years, but still not exactly the same. (RyRy, you probably know what I'm talking about here.)

Also, PLEASE pay attention to the rating. I'm going to keep it just this side of NC-17 because of site rules, but you should expect some fairly graphic stuff later on.

I was inspired by a _Tangled_ fanfic called "Super" by Airplane. If you're into that, go check out my favorite stories section. It's a very unique read if you like FlynnRapunzel **n.n **

Um...yeah, if you have questions, drop them in the review box.

Un-beta'd.

_**. ( . Ms Videl Son . ) .**_

– _Who's your daddy? GohanVidel_


	2. Bitter

**Title: **Catch Me If You Can  
**Rating:** M ( R ) – For the smexyness. And maybe a little violence.  
**Disclaimer:** You'll have to catch me first! Neener-neener-neeeeeeener! XP  
**Spoilers: **Nothing can spoil alternate universe.

**Summary: **AU. Sometimes, Saiyaman was pretty sure he wanted to be caught. Gohan was always on the fence about it. SMVi, GhVi.

The differentiation between "Saiyaman" and "Gohan" might start making sense now. (...Or maybe not.)

* * *

**Bitter**

Gohan winced as the scalding coffee washed over his tongue, burning with searing heat and bitterness. He didn't even really like the stuff; it just seemed like what he was supposed to drink now that he was an adult.

He set the styrofoam cup down on the break room table and waited for the burn to dispel. He could feel the skin on the roof of his mouth beginning to blister and peel.

"Hey."

Gohan was glad that the cup was nowhere near either his mouth or his hands for the moment because it would have inevitably ended up on his shirt when that soft, cold voice interrupted his solitude. His first startled instinct was to push his seat backwards and stand, so that's what he did. The chair toppled over behind him. "V-Videl-san."

She leaned in through the doorway, one hand on each side of the frame, and leered at him from across the room. Her blue eyes were as cunning and dangerous as always. "You don't have to get up. I was just wondering if you knew anything about the DNA collected from the underpass crime scene."

Gohan shook his head fervently in the negative fashion. His glasses slid down the slope of his nose and he pushed them back into place with the index finger of his right hand. "N-No...the lab still has it. I don't think they'll have a profile worked up until next week."

"Tch, figures," Videl commented, her posture going slack against the door frame to one side. Her arms folded themselves over her bosom and she looked away to glare at the coffee pot.

Videl was always cool and professional. She wore button-down shirts – mostly white, but occasionally something exotic like red or blue – tucked into dark pants every day of the week. A matching suit jacket was worn on top to hide the gun holster that was strapped to her shoulders, keeping her duty weapon conveniently out of sight until she needed it. Gohan only caught glimpses of it when she bent down over a dead body to examine the trace evidence he was collecting.

Most detectives wore their badges on a chain around their necks, but Videl wasn't that ostentatious. She kept it attached to her belt, just above her left hip, and only flashed at criminals for the sake of protocol. Everyone in Satan City – especially the drug lords, the mob bosses and petty thieves – knew who she was and knew better than to get in her way.

"Sorry...," Gohan apologized, though he wasn't sure what for. It was a nervous tick that he had trouble suppressing.

Videl's eyes softened out of their glare, shifting into their natural almond shape, as she returned them to Gohan. He shivered a little when they crossed into the path of his own gaze, a shock of cold that contrasted sharply with the burn on his lips. "Not _your_ fault. Don't apologize so much."

"Sor – " Gohan caught himself just in time and disguised his fumbled word with a cough. "Sure."

Videl's lips itched into a smirk. She'd caught him. She always caught him. "Let me know when you hear something, okay? And I'll call you if we catch a fresh one."

Her back was turned on him before he'd had a chance to offer her a goodbye, her low ponytail

following her out of the break room and back out into the lab. He wouldn't hear from her again until another murder was reported or she came looking for another piece of evidence, probably.

He didn't really know why Videl requested him so much for crime scenes, but sometimes it seemed like he worked almost exclusively on her cases. He'd never told anyone this before (who would he tell, anyway?), but he kind of worried that she was trying to keep an eye on him. As if she...suspected.

But no, that was ridiculous. No one would ever guess that he was secretly –

"I almost forgot," Videl interrupted his thoughts again, causing him to jump and squeak in an undignified way. She arched one perfectly formed eyebrow at him and smirked. "Jumpy?"

"N-No...," Gohan denied, reaching a hand back to rub at the short, soft hairs at the base of his hairline. "Why would I be jumpy?"

"I don't know...why?" she queried, her head tipping a little to one side as she awaited his answer. It might have been a cute gesture to someone who didn't know when she was plotting.

A searing heat erupted deep in Gohan's stomach as a knowing smile spread across her lips. It was the same one she'd given him right before she'd –

"Anyway, like I was saying," she continued, eyes flickering with light and shadow as she spoke. "There's an open spot on the taskforce and I've put in my application. Wish me luck."

"Taskforce?"

"The Saiyaman taskforce," Videl elaborated, her smile stretching incrementally.

Gohan wanted to answer, but found his tongue suddenly numb and useless. He flapped his lips at her anyway as if attempting to convey some meaning through wordless miming.

Videl laughed, clear and bright, at him. "Thanks for your support. See ya."

After she left, Gohan released an aching breath and – forgetting that his chair was halfway across the room – slumped backwards into a boneless heap on the floor. His ungainly descent jarred the table upon which his coffee was perched and spilled the steaming drink down the front of his pristine white shirt. He yelped and thrashed as it soaked through the cotton and into his skin.

"Perfect," he complained, swiping at the growing stain with his bare hands. What a day.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Did I mention that these little drabbles/OneShots were gonna be short? Cuz...yeah, they will be. I'm mostly doing this for practice so they're going to be short and sweet (or steamy). No overarching plot, just connected by time, space, theme and characters. (Though they're turning more into "episodes" than stand alones, I guess. Well, whatever.)

NO IDEA what the uploading schedule is going to be like, so please don't ask. Just be surprised! **n.n**

Next up...another Saiyaman chapter. You'll see.

_**. ( . Ms Videl Son . ) . **_

– _Who's your daddy? GhVi_


	3. Ego

**Title: **Catch Me If You Can  
**Rating:** M ( R ) – For the smexyness. And maybe a little violence.  
**Disclaimer:** You'll have to catch me first! Neener-neener-neeeeeeener! XP  
**Spoilers: **Nothing can spoil alternate universe.

**Summary: **AU. Sometimes, Saiyaman was pretty sure he wanted to be caught. Gohan was always on the fence about it. SMVi, GhVi.

For the record, "SM" stands for "Saiyaman."

* * *

**Ego**

"I don't need your help, you know," Videl commented, her glaring eyes fixated on the gun she had pulled out of her holster. As if making a point, she slid a new clip of bullets into her weapon with a practiced motion and it clicked into place.

Saiyaman smiled and didn't respond because they both knew that she wasn't supposed to acknowledge his presence. None of the other cops had noticed the superhero lurking just out of sight in a dirty alleyway.

"They're just a bunch of petty thugs, not a Gozilla-monster," she continued as she returned the handgun to its resting place against her ribcage. "So I'm pretty sure we can handle this one on our own. Get lost."

Again, Saiyaman said nothing. There wasn't anything to say, really, when she was in a stubborn mood like this. And even if she weren't, she would never admit that she needed him, which was exactly the reason why she _did_ need him. Satan Videl never asked for help and Saiyaman had to be there to catch her if (when) she fell.

Saiyaman watched as she sighed and moved to turn away. With her eyes still averted from his hiding place, she said, "Fine, suit yourself. Just stay out of my way."

"You let him get away!" Videl accused an hour later, her loose hair windswept and knotted around her scowling face. Her arms were reluctantly twined around his neck as they descended, slowly, toward the asphalt below.

Saiyaman should have been angry with her, – and part of him was, he supposed, for doing something so stupid like trying to jump from one rooftop to the next in pursuit of her criminal prey – but her blustering was always a little cute. The way her face got so red and her tiny fists balled up as if to punch him was nothing if not adorable. "Would you prefer it next time if I let you fall?"

Ooh, he'd gotten her there. Even she couldn't boast coming out unscathed after a twenty-story drop. She opened her mouth anyway, as if to proclaim just that, and then snapped it back closed again. She huffed angrily at him instead.

Saiyaman's lips spread into a grin as his toes finally contacted the ground again. Videl's still dangled a couple of feet above it, her arms still folded around his neck and holding her aloft. Saiyaman would have been happy to keep her against him all day, but his adversary was hardly in the mood for it; she released him, dropped down to the pavement and pushed herself away from him with both hands splayed across his chest.

Yellow tape stretched out around them in an imperfect square as a warning to the press and other rubbernecking onlookers to stay out of police business. Reporters were leaning over the "Police Line Do Not Cross" barrier, their cameras poised at anything that dared to move and clicking away like crickets in a country field. Many of the flashbulbs were aimed at Saiyaman and his damsel, cracking, snapping and popping while their little interlude forged on.

"No one ever asked you to help, you know," Videl complained, each fisted hand poised on the rounded curve of her hips beneath the open hem of her suit jacket. Saiyaman could see her service weapon dangling in its holster on her left side and he wondered, in passing, if he was being threatened. So cute. "The people of this city did just fine without you."

In his mundane, everyday life, he wasn't really the type to banter. As Saiyaman, however, the urge was compelling. He felt a smile spreading across his face as he replied, "That's not what they think" and nodded toward their gallery of viewers on the other side of the crime tape. Those that weren't snapping pictures were commenting on the scene to mobile video cameras streaming feed to various television networks.

Videl didn't bother to incline her head in the direction of the press; maybe she thought she would encourage them. "_They_ are only peddling a story to the gullible masses, but we both know what you are. _You're_ a vigilante. _You're_ dangerous."

"'Dangerous'?" Saiyaman repeated, lifting his eyebrows beneath his visor. His smile grew incrementally as their little argument escalated. "I only want to help people, Miss Videl. I even helped _you_ today."

Videl's lips pursed together into a thin, wrinkled line as her eyebrows knotted in annoyance in the center of her forehead. A light breeze rushed past them, carrying with it the scent of gunpowder and sweat, dark tendrils of her hair curling and twisting in the void of space to her right. Her breasts rose and fell beneath the starched white shirt that covered them as she released an aggravated sigh. "I would have managed."

"From twenty stories up?"

The detective didn't deign to respond to that question as she freed one of her hands from its resting place against her hip and brought it up to her face. She extended her fingers and slipped them beneath her hairline to put a few errant tresses in their place behind her ear. There were too many escaped tendrils for her to control, however, and they swatted across her face as if mocking her inability to stop them.

Saiyaman, always so helpful, reached out a gloved hand to assist. Her gaze followed his fingers as they brushed against her opposite cheek, captured the escaping clusters of hair and swept them behind the shell of her nearest ear. He kept his hand poised against the base of her skull as he said, "Is a simple 'thank you' so difficult?"

Videl's eyes, soft blue and wide, rolled back around to fixate on his masked face. Saiyaman could hear the cameras clicking more fervently than before against the backdrop.

While she was still enraptured by the surprise of his tender gesture, Saiyaman extended his free arm toward her. He snaked it beneath the fluttering hem of her jacket, around to her back and planted his palm against the base of her spine. With little effort, he pulled her forward until her breasts were pressed between them, swelling outward and inward with each panting breath.

Videl's head inclined to stare up at him through his visor, her eyes splayed open wide and her lips parting with a question. "Wh-What are you doing?"

"Taking some gratitude," Saiyaman explained, arching one foot forward and bending his leg at the knee. Videl dug all ten fingers into the front of his tunic as the hero dipped her backward, bracing her minor weight against his inner thigh, and lowered his face toward hers. He captured her lips just as they were about to say something else. The crowd behind them went wild.

Videl was hardly complicit in Saiyaman's little ploy and her body remained rigid within his hold. The hero didn't care much as he took what he wanted anyway, moving his lips against hers in the suggestive fashion that had so enraptured him during their last encounter. He was soft, at first, and then a little more demanding; his tongue breached the barrier of their teeth and swept inside her mouth, swiping against the insides of her cheeks in unpracticed frenzy. The detective whimpered down his throat.

Saiyaman would have lost himself in the heated exchange of saliva had it not been for the press badgering the pair of them to turn around for a better angle. He almost wished that he'd initiated this little show of dominance elsewhere, out of sight, so that he could enjoy the way Videl was finally beginning to thaw in his arms. He was tempted to simply pick her up and fly her off somewhere more private, but knew that would break the spell he held over her.

Reluctantly, but with the flavor of triumph washing over his tongue, Saiyaman peeled his lips away from those of his arch nemesis and whispered, "You're welcome."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** In the original idea, Goten steals Saiyaman's watch and goes on a little hero rampage of his own in the city. When he encounters Videl at one of the unfolding crime scenes, he takes a liberty he assumes is due to the hero and bends our heroine backwards for a big kiss in front of reporters. Gohan (who is on-scene as a CSI) is, naturally, horrified XD Ah, but I'm saving that and it doesn't seem to work for this story, anyway.

Sorry for such a long time between updates...I've barely touched my computer since January. This has been sitting around as-is for awhile now.

**_. ( . Ms Videl Son . ) ._**

_- Who's your daddy? GohanVidel_


End file.
